A hole in my heart

I have a good life, anxiety and the ed aside, I have an incredible family, amazing friends, a loving husband and a job I adore and yet there is something missing. A year ago I drifted apart from a person who I loved on every possible level, a friend who had supported me through my endo diagnosis, bad break ups, new boyfriends, an engagement and a wedding. I never ever thought it would be possible for us to not be a part of each other's lives. We have made tentative steps towards rebuilding a friendship but nothing substantial. 

Over 27 years I have drifted apart from many people, the friends I have left are the ones who truly know and support me, yet for some reason I can't let this friendship go. Something deep inside me is telling me that this isn't the end for us, that there is something more. I don't know how to move forwards, I'm terrified of getting hurt but leaving things as they are will ultimately mean she is no longer a part of my life. 

My tree

It starts off as an innocuous thought somewhere deep in my subconscious, a thought I can't even begin to vocalise because I don't know what it is. It's clever though, it plants a seed which takes root and eventually spreads into my conscious mind telling me no. No you don't need food, no that person doesn't want to talk to you, no you don't look good - you get the picture. This one thought, that I had absolutely no control over, has left me living in the shadow of its branches, a spectacular tree which I have watered and nurtured over many months has now become such a part of me that it's hard to let go, but let go I must.

As I wandered through the leaves and branches which the recent storm had covered the local path with I was struck by the realisation that all my tree of doubt needed was a damn good shake. I can't get rid of my tree with one shake, but I can stop nurturing it, I can listen to my therapist and slowly but surely add more food to my safe list, I can listen to my husband when he tells me I look good, I can believe that I will get better. 

My tree has drained me of the believe that I deserve to be here, as it had grown I have shrunk, now is the time to fight back. I deserve to be living, I have a right and a reason to be here. I may not yet know what my purpose in life is but I know I have one and I know that this eating disorder is not the end for me. 

Monster

Somewhere deep inside me there a monster, she (for some reason it's a she and not a he, maybe because girls are bitchier) shouts at me that I'm not good enough, not pretty enough, not talented enough, not thin enough, not ill enough. Every day she is there, an invisible enemy that is draining me, I am fighting a battle that feels extreme and hard. I desperately battle to keep her voice at bay, listening to music helps as it keeps my mind from wandering off to find her, yet she is strong. She has been patiently waiting for me to slip back into get grasp again and now she is victorious.

A few short weeks ago I was doing well, I was blocking her out and winning my battle with food, then I got tired, my body feeling the strain of dancing 6 days a week and boom she was back. 

I am still fighting, I am determined not to let her win. For the first time in my life I don't want to be the best at something, after all the best anorexics end up dead.

Where am I from?

This question has been playing on my mind quite a lot recently and I honestly don't know how to answer it. There is the obvious answer that I am from my mom and dad, that my body and genes are a mash up of there's which have created me - a randomly unique person, but my thinking goes deeper than that. Where does my anxiety come from? Why can I not deal with arguments? Why am I so sarcastic? Some of these traits can be ticked off by simply looking at my dad and his mom (my nan), put us in a room together and it is strikingly obvious just how similar we are. Then there are the genes from my mom, the way we both desperately want to please others often at our own expense, the need to be liked and the hidden shyness. I like that I am a blend of people, but recently I've hit a rock. My mom was adopted, and I've become somewhat conflicted about where I am from. My paternal grandfather was black - I can thank him for my dark hair, the skin-tone that can make people assume I am from anywhere in Europe and my ability to tan in an instance. I don't know who he is or what he looks like, same with my paternal grandmother and this is where my thinking begins. Is anxiety something I could trace back through them, I wonder if there was a history of eating disorders or an overwhelming desire to please others, of course I'll never know the answers to these questions and that for me right now leaves a gaping hole in my thoughts. I am beginning to understand exactly who I am, but I may never know the reasons why I am me.

Alone

It struck me recently that we are rarely ever alone, even when we are overwhelmed with loneliness. I love having my own time - having space to read, write or daydream, however I normally have tetley to accompany me, yes he may be a cat but I still talk to him about life! Even last year when Stuart was away I still wasn't alone, I spent my days with the children I was teaching, evenings chatting to Stuart, my mom and various friends and yet I was lonely.

Is loneliness just something we have invented? In a world where we are able to be connected with anyone all over the world in an instant how is it possible to be lonely? I found myself wondering if it was selfish to feel lonely, after all there are people in this world who have absolutely nothing. 

Feeling alone is horrible, my eating disorder relishes in making me feel like I have no one at all, and yet I do. I am surrounded by a loving family, friends and hugely supportive bloggers, loneliness has no place in my life.